The Pumpkin man

Every year, when the leaves turn brown.
The pumpkin man, comes to town.
He straddles confidently into the square.
And steals the first child sitting there.
And though this may seem mean and frightful.
We’ve come to terms, and find it delightful.
For the pumpkin man, like the Krampus in winter.
Knows which boy or girl is a sinner.
And punishes them for their terrible ways.
For their nasty manners and idle malaise.
But fear not, for he brings them back.
A little wiser, in that pumpkin sack.
But for his trouble, we all bequeath.
For him to keep the child’s teeth.
For a pumpkin man, though true and dandy.
Must go through all that Halloween candy.

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In September the Devil comes Dancing

Collaborations with Nara15blog

Crinkled veins that litter the ground.
My smile carved like a pumpkin crescent.
Circling the moon.
Laying down for September’s kiss.
A spiced potion that thickens my eager Heart, bone felt and embraced.

Store bought and rhinestoned.
A mask for a hideaway.
A little glint under the eyes to shimmer.
In the cooling sun’s blaze.

Turning on a dime in a year’s sigh.
Tiptoeing back in time.
Last year, to rival such memories.
365. What a year to be alive!

Smelling the dying throes of summer.
As the trees feign death,
In the rustic cinnamon crunch.
Planting poison ivy to creep through my vines.

In a day’s ramble bramble.
Tomorrow, today. Witch way? This way.
On the broom off to do mischief.
Open the door for October’s devils.
Felling my rooted heart, awash with treacle.
Filling my soul with black stars.
These tar-like sediments like shock treats to my mind.
To make me dance manic eyed.

Howling at the orange fire moon,
Silver bulleted like a ghost through gloom.
In ebony tricks.
In a bubbly brew fix.
Rotting my teeth from the roots.